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Fantasy 𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟'𝕤 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖
- Thread starter Nothingness
- Start date
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- Tags
- fantasy
Darkbloom
Storm King of Superheroes
Asmoday was having a busy day. Papers everywhere, people constantly coming into his office to ask for random things, and it got to the point where he'd had enough. "CARMINE! No one enters unless it's truly an emergency." He closes and locks the door, sighing a bit as he sits down. It's been raining all day, making any outside event impossible. He looks around at the mess. "Eeeeh... I'll clean this later." He picks up a book he's been reading about applications of magic. The book is battered and its pages are stained with old liquid that spilled on it while he was studying in school. Every student has this book and is required to learn everything moderately well before he or she graduates. Just then, a canaries made of ice pecks on his window. "Eh?" He stands up and opens the window, inviting the canaries in. When he touches it, a letter forms in his hand. "Sky Reach Sanctum..." After reading the letter, it disappears into nothing. "I wonder what the topic will be this time..." He strides out of his office. "CARMINE! We're going to Sky Reach Sanctum right away."
gmimperfecti
Member
Carmine was in bliss. It had been overcast and gloomy the whole day, blotting out the garish sunlight. Drizzle and downpour cleansed the filth from the streets, thinning out the herd of humanity and demon outside. To top it all off, he got to spend the day attending to his lords every whim. It was a delicate balance like the spurt of blood with each heartbeat. Too slow and the mind would fade, too fast and the heart would explode. His lord was a busy man and with the upcoming war games, the bicentennial celebration, and various insurgencies to put down it was a particularly busy day.
“Prepare my lords evening coffee…” Carmine started to say, then paused sensing the frantic pace of the day, “Perhaps it’s whisky.” He frowned, pondering the best beverage to pair with his lords busy schedule, the gloom outside, and the approaching evening. “Have chief prepare the bread pudding and whisky, neat, one glass only.” Carmine flicked his hand, dismissing the page without further glance.
Carmine could hear the soft sigh of his lord and the faint squeak of his lords favorite sitting chair. He slit the palm of his left hand with the claw of his right forefinger. He needed be so dramatic, but he enjoyed the drama. It took but a moment to scrawl a Blood Sigil on the door. Should anyone approach, their blood would start to burn. First their head would pound and their heart stir. If they didn’t flee, their skin would become feverish and within the span of several heart beats blood would begin to seep out of every orifice. Laying down the magical array, calibrating it to a wide spectrum of both demonic and humanity blood essence, and fueling with a vast swath of his own internal energy took five minutes. He took a step back and nodded to himself, leaving the antechamber.
He gestured to the squad of Wraith-class commandos whose body armor allowed them to blend into the surroundings. Not so much to hide as to be unobtrusive and inconspicuous so his lord did not feel overwhelmed. “Commander, call in a pair of the Doom Guard. I don’t want anything to enter our lords chambers. Expand the no fly perimeter, thirty Skeksis minimum out to five acre with at least five magi. Lay down a-”
Carmine snapped to attention, giving Asmoday a curt bow. “I will ready the Airship, Bloody Apocalypse. It is such a lovely ambiance to enjoy the brisk evening gloom.” Carmine smiled a radiant smile. Only his lord could be filled with such vigor as to require but a moment of mediation before jaunting off on another small adventure.
Still, Carmine’s eyes swept through Asmoday’s study. His lord’s study would have to be cleaned; the maids had been remiss again in their duties. He would punish them in equal measure to their incompetence, but it was better to wait until after his lord retired for the evening. Carmine’s eyes twinkled at seeing the battered copy of the Second Edition of Applications of Magic: An Elementary Introduction. Only his lord could find enlightenment in something so mundane. All the world’s secrets were Asmoday’s to plunder.
What caused him to frown was the sprinkling of water drops on the hardwood floor. There was something off. They hadn’t been there earlier, but no matter. His lord’s will was all consuming.
“This way my lord.”
“Prepare my lords evening coffee…” Carmine started to say, then paused sensing the frantic pace of the day, “Perhaps it’s whisky.” He frowned, pondering the best beverage to pair with his lords busy schedule, the gloom outside, and the approaching evening. “Have chief prepare the bread pudding and whisky, neat, one glass only.” Carmine flicked his hand, dismissing the page without further glance.
Carmine could hear the soft sigh of his lord and the faint squeak of his lords favorite sitting chair. He slit the palm of his left hand with the claw of his right forefinger. He needed be so dramatic, but he enjoyed the drama. It took but a moment to scrawl a Blood Sigil on the door. Should anyone approach, their blood would start to burn. First their head would pound and their heart stir. If they didn’t flee, their skin would become feverish and within the span of several heart beats blood would begin to seep out of every orifice. Laying down the magical array, calibrating it to a wide spectrum of both demonic and humanity blood essence, and fueling with a vast swath of his own internal energy took five minutes. He took a step back and nodded to himself, leaving the antechamber.
He gestured to the squad of Wraith-class commandos whose body armor allowed them to blend into the surroundings. Not so much to hide as to be unobtrusive and inconspicuous so his lord did not feel overwhelmed. “Commander, call in a pair of the Doom Guard. I don’t want anything to enter our lords chambers. Expand the no fly perimeter, thirty Skeksis minimum out to five acre with at least five magi. Lay down a-”
Carmine snapped to attention, giving Asmoday a curt bow. “I will ready the Airship, Bloody Apocalypse. It is such a lovely ambiance to enjoy the brisk evening gloom.” Carmine smiled a radiant smile. Only his lord could be filled with such vigor as to require but a moment of mediation before jaunting off on another small adventure.
Still, Carmine’s eyes swept through Asmoday’s study. His lord’s study would have to be cleaned; the maids had been remiss again in their duties. He would punish them in equal measure to their incompetence, but it was better to wait until after his lord retired for the evening. Carmine’s eyes twinkled at seeing the battered copy of the Second Edition of Applications of Magic: An Elementary Introduction. Only his lord could find enlightenment in something so mundane. All the world’s secrets were Asmoday’s to plunder.
What caused him to frown was the sprinkling of water drops on the hardwood floor. There was something off. They hadn’t been there earlier, but no matter. His lord’s will was all consuming.
“This way my lord.”
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blue tea
may you look up and meet tenderness
Darkbloom
Storm King of Superheroes
The airship, Bloody Apocalypse, was a grand vessel created with Asmoday's specific instructions. It sported the clan colors on the outside and the inside as well, so everyone would know who it was. There were between 10-15 rooms aboard, enough for a small staff as well as Asmoday's room aboard the vessel. He liked to make sure his employees were well fed, well rested, and well taken care of. Maybe that's one of the reasons why he was sought out to be the clan leader.
"Yes, I know how you like this weather. Maybe it'll last a few more days. How long will it take for the airship to be ready?" His thoughts about his second in command have always been favorable. Asmoday, although slightly biased, believed Carmine was simply the best second in command out of all the clans. No one could ask for a better second.
Asmoday waved at his employees and wished them all a good night, addressing their names. After he left the work rooms, he "Lead the way, Carmine. And please do tell me how your day has been so far. I make a point to talk to everyone so I can better understand everyone's needs. It makes them better employees, in my opinion."
gmimperfecti
"Yes, I know how you like this weather. Maybe it'll last a few more days. How long will it take for the airship to be ready?" His thoughts about his second in command have always been favorable. Asmoday, although slightly biased, believed Carmine was simply the best second in command out of all the clans. No one could ask for a better second.
Asmoday waved at his employees and wished them all a good night, addressing their names. After he left the work rooms, he "Lead the way, Carmine. And please do tell me how your day has been so far. I make a point to talk to everyone so I can better understand everyone's needs. It makes them better employees, in my opinion."
gmimperfecti
VynnyBoy
Junior Member
Arkos Charcoal was not happy with what he had.
He had the Ash Wolves, the protectors of humanity. He had their loyalty and their support...
What he didn't have, however, was information.
He was seated at a table, looking over maps of the various demon clans' territory, documents explaining their known strengths and weaknesses, everything and anything that could help humanity, he had it - and it was not enough.
He rubbed his face briefly, sighing in annoyance. This.... this getting ridiculous.
Arkos cleared his throat and looked around the room. His lieutents were assembled, and were waiting for his orders.
"Any word from the recon units?"
"None yet, sir."
"Perfect," Arkos muttered, curling his fingers into a fist. He hummed and then rapped his knuckles against the table. Looking over the map, he began deciphering everything he currently had.
"No doubt our enemies will seek to unit," he mused, "and we cannot afford that. We need someway to keep them divided..." He looked up. Obviously, he needed false flag operations. But those would extremely difficult to pull off.
"Or perhaps we could... hmm." He stood up straight, hand cupped around his chin, and tapped a finger against his jawline. Then he spoke again.
"Alright. I have an idea. When the recon units return, I want to be informed immediately." Arkos then glanced at his lieutents, his eyes peeking out from underneath the hood and his branding. "Here is what we'll do..."
Once he'd finished, he dismissed them while making it clear this plan was not to be leaked. Security must be maintained tightly. Even the slightest slipup could spell disaster. And the Ash Wolves could not afford that.
He had the Ash Wolves, the protectors of humanity. He had their loyalty and their support...
What he didn't have, however, was information.
He was seated at a table, looking over maps of the various demon clans' territory, documents explaining their known strengths and weaknesses, everything and anything that could help humanity, he had it - and it was not enough.
He rubbed his face briefly, sighing in annoyance. This.... this getting ridiculous.
Arkos cleared his throat and looked around the room. His lieutents were assembled, and were waiting for his orders.
"Any word from the recon units?"
"None yet, sir."
"Perfect," Arkos muttered, curling his fingers into a fist. He hummed and then rapped his knuckles against the table. Looking over the map, he began deciphering everything he currently had.
"No doubt our enemies will seek to unit," he mused, "and we cannot afford that. We need someway to keep them divided..." He looked up. Obviously, he needed false flag operations. But those would extremely difficult to pull off.
"Or perhaps we could... hmm." He stood up straight, hand cupped around his chin, and tapped a finger against his jawline. Then he spoke again.
"Alright. I have an idea. When the recon units return, I want to be informed immediately." Arkos then glanced at his lieutents, his eyes peeking out from underneath the hood and his branding. "Here is what we'll do..."
Once he'd finished, he dismissed them while making it clear this plan was not to be leaked. Security must be maintained tightly. Even the slightest slipup could spell disaster. And the Ash Wolves could not afford that.
Nothingness
Two Thousand Club
blue tea
may you look up and meet tenderness
YOU'RE A TRAGEDY
AREN'T YOU?
mocca
ꔫ
Uta Katzen
Location: Arkos Charcoal’s office
Uta rolled the satiny captured rook between her thumb and forefinger, a glazed stare set upon the checkered board before her. In such a precarious case, are guerilla tactics all that’s left - would that be enough at all? She pressed the rook gently to her lower lip for a moment and closed her eyes. As for all the pieces captured, could they be of any use if they’re saved? A soft hum escaped her. With a free hand, she set the queen into position and sunk into her chair, tipping her head back against the rigid slats, silvery hair falling between the rosewood. “Check in two” she spoke smoothly. A hint of weariness glimmered across her empty face, as a cigarette now balanced from her lips. No use, they'll be dead already.Location: Arkos Charcoal’s office
As easily as she had moved the last piece, she had disengaged from the match entirely. Bowing his head, her opponent lay down his king with an unsteady hand and stood from his seat, not once regarding her. He was young, unkempt and startlingly nervous, a reaction which was not uncommon among newer recruits with Katzen. The cause of this fear was unknown and decidedly misplaced, but she found it amusing nevertheless. After all, they are trained killers. There is nothing she could do that they could not in turn parry. Their nervousness, she thought, must be born from something more abstract. Word of mouth inevitably finds a way to become more colourful than life. Her trail of thought was soon cut off by the hard clicking of footsteps sounding from beside her. With her cheek upon the chair, her large, dark eyes set upon the source. Ah, Charcoal’s office, fortunate timing. She started for the door.
Not in the habit of waiting for an answer, she faced a curled fist towards her and gave the door two gentle knocks before opening. Taking a few long steps across the room, she pressed her back against the wall and said nothing, only cocking her head to one side. There was a pause, as she now beheld the scattered spread across the table, making what little sense of it she could from this unfavourable angle. It would seem he was more troubled by the recent revelations than even she - the disarray of papers and scrolls before him seemed like an unambiguous manifestation of this. Finally, she spoke, “How interesting.” The huntress drew closer to the table and outstretched her arm, brandishing the cigarette between two slender fingers. “Fire, please.”
gmimperfecti
Member
The airship, Bloody Apocalypse, had started out as a grand vessel created his lord’s specific instructions. Carmine had taken the liberty to upgrade the vessel to be a true and proper symbol of his lord’s prowess as commander of Haven’s Military. It sported the clan colors on the outside and the inside as well as a full complement of magitech cannons and a surplus of munitions. Several of the rooms now served as barracks with a full unit of Doom Guards, Wraiths, and Blood Sworn on board whenever his lord traveled. Carmine had thoroughly enjoyed weeding the garden of the Bloody Moon’s military until there was the outer circle of competent and suitably motivated ground and aerial divisions with an inner circle of the Doom Guard, Moon Wraiths, and Blood Sworn who were both at peak competency and loyalty to his lord. The Blood Sword were intensely loyal to himself first and his lord second, but that couldn’t be helped, it was a by product of their creation. It’s also why he preferred using both the Doom Guard and Moon Wraiths for his lords protection detail. The Moon Wraiths specialized in unobtrusive and fanatical protection, while the Doom Guards specialized in overt and destructive annihilation of opposition to his lord.
For this trip, Carmine had brought along the Asmoday’s aide-de-camp to run the military affairs aboard the Bloody Apocalypse. Finally, there were the three maids and sole steward who were at least passable and would survive tonight’s purge of the incompetent. The four seems exceptionally attentive, which further pleased Carmine. One of Carmine’s chief duties was to ensure that his lord was both sought out and those who did reach his lord were acceptable for such an honor.
So when Asmody asked, “Yes, I know how you like this weather. Maybe it'll last a few more days. How long will it take for the airship to be ready?" His thoughts about his second in command have always been favorable. Asmoday, altho
Carmine could smile and bow low, “Yes my lord, it is quite generous of you to remember my various likes and dislikes. It brings me great pleasure to inform you the Bloody Apocalypse is always made ready for you. This way my lord.”
His lord said, "Lead the way, Carmine.”
And Carmine felt ecstasy at the opportunity to do so!
“And please do tell me how your day has been so far. I make a point to talk to everyone so I can better understand everyone's needs. It makes them better employees, in my opinion."
“My lord is ever so kind,” Carmine peered at the Under Secretary of Military affairs, who was also accompanying them, “Which should never be confused with weakness, as my lord’s power allows his generosity to show.”
Carmine caught Asmody up on the day’s goings on, highlighting the most important details and not bothering his lord with trivial ones like the weeding out of household staff, the new Bloodsworn battling to the death in the bowls of the University, or other such small matters. In this way, they made their way onto the Blood Apocalypse and towards the Sky Reach Sanctum, which had a no-fly zone naturally enforced by the Bloody Moon’s military, which meant that the Blood Apocalypse was cleared to use the aerial port on the Sky Reach Sanctum.
Darkbloom
For this trip, Carmine had brought along the Asmoday’s aide-de-camp to run the military affairs aboard the Bloody Apocalypse. Finally, there were the three maids and sole steward who were at least passable and would survive tonight’s purge of the incompetent. The four seems exceptionally attentive, which further pleased Carmine. One of Carmine’s chief duties was to ensure that his lord was both sought out and those who did reach his lord were acceptable for such an honor.
So when Asmody asked, “Yes, I know how you like this weather. Maybe it'll last a few more days. How long will it take for the airship to be ready?" His thoughts about his second in command have always been favorable. Asmoday, altho
Carmine could smile and bow low, “Yes my lord, it is quite generous of you to remember my various likes and dislikes. It brings me great pleasure to inform you the Bloody Apocalypse is always made ready for you. This way my lord.”
His lord said, "Lead the way, Carmine.”
And Carmine felt ecstasy at the opportunity to do so!
“And please do tell me how your day has been so far. I make a point to talk to everyone so I can better understand everyone's needs. It makes them better employees, in my opinion."
“My lord is ever so kind,” Carmine peered at the Under Secretary of Military affairs, who was also accompanying them, “Which should never be confused with weakness, as my lord’s power allows his generosity to show.”
Carmine caught Asmody up on the day’s goings on, highlighting the most important details and not bothering his lord with trivial ones like the weeding out of household staff, the new Bloodsworn battling to the death in the bowls of the University, or other such small matters. In this way, they made their way onto the Blood Apocalypse and towards the Sky Reach Sanctum, which had a no-fly zone naturally enforced by the Bloody Moon’s military, which meant that the Blood Apocalypse was cleared to use the aerial port on the Sky Reach Sanctum.
Darkbloom
Darkbloom
Storm King of Superheroes
Asmoday enjoyed his ride to the sanctum with whiskey and food that Carmine presented him with, watching the scenery as the sky vessel flew. It was a short but sweet ride, and when he arrived at the sanctum, he stepped off and approached the elevator. "Please stay with the vessel, Carmine. I will return shortly with news of the meeting where we can discuss next steps."
Asmoday got onto the elevator and it lifted him up at instant speed and stopped just as abruptly, but he was used to it. Getting off the elevator, he walks into the meeting room, passing by each of the leaders already present. "Hello, Vincent. Good day. Hello Pinky, you're just as... You, as you always are." He sits down in his assigned chair and waits for Vincent to start the meeting, twiddling his thumbs in the meantime.
Nothingness
blue tea
Asmoday got onto the elevator and it lifted him up at instant speed and stopped just as abruptly, but he was used to it. Getting off the elevator, he walks into the meeting room, passing by each of the leaders already present. "Hello, Vincent. Good day. Hello Pinky, you're just as... You, as you always are." He sits down in his assigned chair and waits for Vincent to start the meeting, twiddling his thumbs in the meantime.
Nothingness
blue tea
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VynnyBoy
Junior Member
Arkos gave her a glance, raising an eyebrow, unamused.
"Uta, not the time." He pushed her hand away. "But I'm pleased to see you. Look at this." He held up a piece of paper for her, tapping one section in particular. "We're seeing a decrease in support in Haven. This is... not good." Arkos sighed and leaned back in his seat. "On top of that, research into the ferals is done. For good. Given what we know so far, which isn't a lot, I'm putting paid to any attempt at breaching the Containment Zone. That would be the definition of insanity. However... there is something else. The leaders of the clans are meeting today. And I've got an idea..."
He leaned across the table to her. "We strike right now. We blow them to pieces and strike a hole so deep in their leadership they'll be scattered like maggots after hatching." A smile came over his face. "We do this, we don't just cripple them for a while - we remind all humanity why demonkind hides in Haven." His smile had turned to a scowl. "And I'll be damned if I ever let them forget it."
He stood up, flexing one arm and rolling the other. "This attack will need to be done with the utmost precision. We have to move into Haven and scout the location, plan this piece by piece, and plan for when those pieces break. And as such-" He looked her dead in the eyes now, face unreadable and hard, "we'll be leading this together. Understood?"
mocca
ꔫ
Uta Katzen
Location: Arkos Charcoal’s office
Location: Arkos Charcoal’s office
She lowered her cigarette, and though she showed no sign of it, Arkos could likely recognise her disappointment. She began to listen.
"Scattered like maggots..." She repeated finally, quietly mulling over each prolonged syllable. The sound of these words rolling off her tongue seemed enough to please her. Uta's stare met his, and a hand drew up in salute "Sir, yes, sir." There was a certain facetiousness underlying her tone, one which she has never quite been able to stifle. "Though they were horn-brained* enough to release such sensitive information, I think we can assume that is where our upper hand ends. Among the four clans, one of them must have considered additional defences..." Uta ran through the logistics in her head, but to no avail, her face screwed into a faint, mournful sulk. It was an onerous mission, but it had to be done. It's mannerless to deny an invitation, after all.
She flattened the map, exhaling bitterly. As her prowess was in stealth rather than any offensive strength, Katzen had been stationed in Haven during undercover operations in the past. Their culture sickened her, yet she recalls these times quite fondly, if only from naive sentimentality. This offered no new lease of knowledge for today's undertakings, but as she examined the map, she felt the ease of familiarity come over her. "Of course, each headquarter is fortified by default," her head fell, gliding a pristinely manicured fingernail across the paper as she spoke. "depending on which division called for the meeting, there's a chance the meeting will be held near their own." She now traced back to the centre of Haven "And here, they have a monopoly on defences from every angle, but with the cost of delay in calling for reinforcements. These would be my guesses.”
*a made-up insult to call demons big dumb
Qazi
Qāżī Saʿīd Qumī
Aristides Palomino Ridder
A few days ago
‘We must burnish the old ways.’ The man scratched his head and then added, ‘Or we havenʼt a chance in the new world.’
Aristides shrugged. ‘I understand.’
‘Do you—do you have any family here?’
‘No, sir.’
‘That is good. I donʼt think itʼll go well.’
‘It?’
‘The next few days at least. Canʼt you smell the air?’
Aristides sniffed: only the thick smog, ashy and dry. ‘Like yesteryear.’
‘Only worsening, intensifying.’
They were sipping tea—Aristides and his good friend, Hemos, each sobered by the cold, sad tea—and discussing the impoverishment of culture in the country, and the impoverishment of its people. In the metropolis, especially, where museums were prevalent and art was universally loathed. (‘Why would anyone care for it? Neither do they have the time, nor do they have the base inclination!’ exclaimed Hemos.) What people like them usually talk about. They brushed around the true reason for his visit, the marrow of their relationship, which was the prohibited zone: the center of the city, that ball of nothing. Hemos had come in, stiff-collared and sweating, telling him about the ‘new world’, as he put it, and had given him two or three affectionate slaps on his back. When the excitement had worn off, the salutations exchanged, his mood took a turn for the worse. The tea was a few hours old, meant for breakfast, but it didnʼt mean much to the old man. Hemos was almost thirty years his senior, an expert in anthropology, history and extra-racial relations, who had been appointed Aristidesʼ professor during his early years. He had moved to Haven after retirement, although he had obtained a tenure in a local college—Aristides forgot its name—somewhere.
‘It is something I must tread carefully on,’ began Aristides, taking another sip and frowning, ‘and I could be doing anything else, really. They call it a city of opportunity. I do not disagree, even with all the museums—’
Hemos interjected: ‘You can take over my history classes, Aristides. I have to go abroad in a few weeks, and better you than a random bloke.’
‘To my credit or to the blokeʼs discredit?’
‘The latter. Youʼd be lucky to find a man with even half-decent qualities here. The rest are rabble—prohibitors and propagandists.’
He stood up. ‘But this is why I left the university—’ and gesturing slowly at the vista that spread out beyond the veranda—‘to get to the root of the matter.’
‘You donʼt suppose this whole affair will give you a salary fitting to your station?’
‘No, I donʼt think so.’ Aristides gave a curt, steady nod. ‘But thank you for the offer.’
Hemos stood up too. ‘Look, this might not be as pretty as you imagine it to be.’
‘I know.’
‘Knowing isnʼt enough.’ He put on his hat and sighed. ‘Thatʼs our curse. We know a lot but we do little, so little.’
Before the old man could shoot off, Aristides asked, ‘And the letter?’
‘Here you go. Itʼs only an introduction, mind you, but if you manage to impress the fool—which isnʼt very difficult—youʼll get an easy in.’
‘I appreciate it, Hemos.’
‘Try not to get yourself killed.’
‘I wonʼt.’
However, Hemos didnʼt budge from his position, opting instead to stare out into the horizon. After a few minutes of awkward silence, he said, ‘Listen, you do need protection here. Especially if youʼre going to go and sniff around this city.’
Aristides could only manage a yawn in response. ‘So you say,’ he slowly drawled.
‘I know someone. He might help you around. Do you have money?’
‘Lord, no.’
‘Well, to hell with it. Iʼll pay him myself, you neednʼt worry.’
‘Send this,’ and with special emphasis, ‘contact of yours around whenever he feels comfortable. You know my address.’
‘I do. It was good to see you, Aristides. I think your students would be proud of you.’
Aristides raises an eyebrow. ‘I sure hope so.’
×
Currently
Chastely, Aristides entered the headquarters of the Ash Wolves. The security committee had assigned him as a civilian liaison to the department. What the job precisely entailed, he had no idea, but it would give him the opportunity to take a closer seat and view the spectacle first-hand. He had the good grace of avoiding the dirty looks he kept getting from the rest of the officers, although the papers had cleared him well enough. No love was lost between him and the military; as was tradition, the politicos and the army generally kept themselves an armʼs length away from each other until they simply couldnʼt, until the inevitable entanglement came mutually upon their laps. Thus: whether he would be received well, or received at all, especially in the present, was a question that hung faintly in his mind. Yet someone had to do it, no? A daunting prospect and one Aristides had chosen to fully embrace.
He hoped they had been informed of his arrival beforehand. He disliked explaining himself; rather, he disliked the very idea of talking about himself, or about things that may have any regards to himself. It was a habit he had picked after his post at the university had come to a close, when he had briefly taken a job as a translator, then as an inspector. The interrogative mood, at some point, became antithetical to him. He was thankful, however, for his companion—Alastair, so he had called himself—, who, for all his ominous air, provided a counterweight to the tension in the A.W. headquarters.
‘The worldʼs had enough questions,’ he muttered to himself, before turning back towards his other. With a smile, he asked, ‘Well, what do you think, Alastair?’ He did appreciate his attendant—bodyguard, really—and his relatively keen mind, even in the short time they have been together, and was willing to hear his opinion on the state of things.
Xen6n
×
A little while after that
After winding around the office, humbled eventually by directions delivered with restrained contempt, he arrived at Arkos Charcoalʼs office. The door proved to be a steadfast foe. Taking a deep breath (the discomfort was primordial, for various reasons), he knocked on the door.
mocca
VynnyBoy
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Nothingness
Two Thousand Club
JJae
Rox
“You are aware that this is wrong.” A voice over her shoulder muttered. Like a nasty fly- sitting in her ear and driving her nerves on the edge. Cazendra Virrer clapped her palm against the green creature's head. Criad was the kobold’s name.
“Ow!” he screeched and hopped from her chair. She cut him a glance only to ravish in his grimace. Criad had been her assistant for quite a time now. Well, more of an annoying rat than help but she tried to ignore it. He knew things of this territory that stood in no book.
The demoness sat up straight and stretched. “Be glad I didn’t zip you with my thunder.” More or less, it was electricity drawn from any source possible. But thunder had a doom sound to it whilst electro shock sounded like a child’s game.
“Caz, you can’t just approve such a sum for a trivalic issue like that though,” he complained. He always complained. The siren flew over the report once more. A farmer requested aid due to a few machines of his being old and barely working. She sighed. Trivialic? No. Their territory was prominent for their goods. Any farmer experiencing hardships like these was a pressing matter. Caz laid the report to the approved pile.
That was Number 148 today. Only 200 complaints left.
Caz wondered if she would have enjoyed a day in the waters more than this, but she shook her stellar. It was not worth weighing the possibilities. Ever since Beezle had asked her to become her Second, she did everything for her. After all, being a leader was no fun.
She wondered though what said leader was doing. Attending another meeting? Hearing the sages out? or was she lost to another bookstore? Either way Cazendra had to get this done before noon. In the evening she wanted to train a little. Perhaps she had to force Beezle to some as well. She knew the female had dodged a few lessons.
“Can we go eat now?” the kobold cried. Gods, how could anyone be so annoying? But the nice Second-In-Command she was, Caz flashed her sharp set of teeth at him. “Maybe I will eat you instead.”
He grimaced once more before plumping down into his seat. Extra cushions lifted his tiny frame. Criad had fought her as she invented his own chairs but she had seen his tiny smile as he sat down in one for the first time. With a huff, Caz returned to another complaint. Another farmer.
“Oh, what!” she hissed and flung it to the disapproved stack. She ignored how much larger it was than the few on the other pile. Criad stared at her, anticipating what brought her to rage. Caz took a shuddering calming breath. “Some people– he truly wrote to me to complain about the river being a little on his bought lands!”
Criad fell into hysterical laughter. “What does he think I am going to do? Alter fucking nature?” The green gremlin couldn’t catch his breath for a second, almost rolling from his chair. Sure, he could laugh. But the Serpents had bigger issues. Things that went under in this pile of trash because of some entitled demons.
“I should pass a new law,” Caz said, already reading through another report. Another murder. Probably the fifth this month. She stored it in her desk. “They should all go to the dungeons for shit like this.”
“Maybe you should just warn them,” Criad wiped an imaginary tear from his eyes. “After all, they do seem to be afraid.”
They were. Whilst their leader was blessed with a good heart, her Second was not. Cazendra became her shadow with claws. Always defending her, always keeping her people in check. Some exited stores whenever she entered them, others shut their windows and she frequently received nervous glances. Many of them, Caz knew from reading their smokes, were just afraid. Others hid something and later on landed mysteriously in prison.
Criad had become accustomed to her threats or the little shocks she sent him whenever he overstepped a line. The tiny kobold proved more worth than any of those demons. Even in these headquarters she was rather avoided. Yes, servants did bring her whatever she asked for and asked her three times a day if she needed help, but they often scurried along in the enormous villa. Whenever she trained, guards stood at the side in a safe distance. But even so far away, Caz always caught the awe and fear in their eyes. She marveled at it. Good, let them be afraid. Let them spread horrendous rumors. It brought her the respect she needed as an outsider.
Before she could take another paper, someone knocked at her door. Frequently.
Non-stop.
Caz was going to fry someone after all. She hurried to her door and almost ripped it out of its hinges. The guard did not step back. Fine, he would only get zipped-
“Miss Virrer, you need to hurry. It’s about our grand leader-”
She had heard enough. Without a split of a second passing, she sprinted down the hall. Beezle. What issues could there be? Did her favored character die? Did she water her book and was about to flood the entire headquarters? Caz swiftly ran down to the female’s office. Her body light, her feet only a fade breeze to the floor. A figure, grey and brown, kept her pace. This guard again–
“We tried to open her door after we heard a thud,” he panted. “She didn’t answer.”
Caz gave him a firm nod before forcing herself to be faster. Thud. No answer. Did Beezle collapse? A few seconds later, she arrived at the scene. Many guards crowded the door, tried to knock and get a miracle answer.
She pushed a few to the side. “Move,” Caz hissed and gained the entire space at the door. A wooden, luxurious thing. Like those things Beezle read about in the castles. Decorated with a river flowing down, twirling around the handle.
The siren’s eyes narrowed to slits, allowing her to detect smokes. But only those of the guards clouded her senses. Useless. Caz shook her head and her normal sight reappeared. She gave this damned door a good knock.
“Beezle? Are you in there? Did something happen?”
She counted. One, two, three. No answer.
Four, five, six. Still nothing.
Cazendra rolled her head on her shoulders. She gave a mental apology before running the locked door open. Only to be revealed to a body on the ground and a strong wave of metallic aroma. Her body froze.
The guards stuck their heads in but hesitated. They waited for her. But she couldn't– Beezle was– Get a hold of yourself. Caz rigged a breath. Her mouth iched before she finally managed to press out, “Sages… Go get the sages!”
The white haired siren thumbled inside. She didn’t know when she kneeled down but she did, nor when she took the head of the female into her lap. Her fingers rapidly searched for her pulse but… under this delicate skin moved nothing. Her pupils narrowed once more. Only a fading smoke was visible.
No.
No,no,no,no,no!
These headquarters were safe! Armed from head to foot guards, high security systems! Cazendra looked for the wound. She had overseen the deep slash in the abdomen region. One precise slash, a matter of seconds. Her skull turned like a machine. The window on the east side slightly swung. The world turned in a loop. All she saw was the west window being bashed open. Entrance and Exit.
Caz could hear herself as she bellowed, “The murderer is still here! Search the west wings you useless mutts!” And even though some guards were frozen, others were on the move. Her hand glid through the female’s hair. She took her figure in completely now.
Beezle was dressed formally? She always wore those to the… Neutral Zone. But why– Cazendra’s head shot up as three old demons stood in the leader’s chambers. The smaller one– the head sage—kneeled to her side. She could only watch his fingers testing for the pulse. The next thing she knew was crying. The taller sage started to sob.
Caz waited for that to hit her, too. Anger, frustration, devastation. Anything! But… nothing hit her. She saw her old home again. Her shredded father, her brother’s wide eyes. Until the image of her dead friend rained upon her.
Dead. Beezle was dead. Killed on a bright day in her own office.
Dead.
The sage turned to her. His wrinkly mouth moved.
Dead.
What… was he saying?
Dead. Beezle is dead.
He stopped. Caz noted his resting hand on her shoulder.
Dead in my arms.
Cazendra slowly got up, took steadying breathes. Slowly the noise and chaos from the halls ringed in her ears. The two remaining sages still cried with a few guards. Their eyes were fixed upon the body at her feet. The body that had belonged to her friend once.
And someone took that friend.
The electricity from the building dashed to her, flowing through her veins and bones now. Someone took Beezle from her and he was still here. Her nails dug into her palms, allowing a few sparkles to emerge and leash at the air around her. Caz stepped around the body, careful not to harm her.
Someone took her from me.
A hand stopped her. She whirled around, her fist raised in the air. The eldest sage only shook his head. “Calm down,” he said.
Calm? Calm?! How could– Caz sneered, “There is a murderer on the free run in my headquarters.” With her sharp finger she pointed at Beezle. “The one who took your leader.”
“The guards are handling it,” he assured and gestured at the same body she was pointing at. “You noticed her clothes, right?”
Flashes remained cracking through the air around her, but she nodded. The sage took a breath as well. “I know you are raging,” he began. “But we cannot mourn her too long. Black Roses have called in a meeting.”
It extinguished her sparkles around her and she turned her entire frame to the sage. “What?”
“Yes, she was on her way there I assume. But she was already late, so we cannot let them wait any longer. You will have to attend this instant.”
Caz blinked at the old demon. And blinked and blinked. Was there any law restricting her from ripping a sage apart? Probably, regarding the fact they guarded the sacred temple and shit.
“Our leader,” she said, begging herself to not erupt into yelling, “was just killed and all you think about is a damned meeting? To hell with them!”
He shrunk, only a little bit, but he did. The elder gave her an apologetic look before he said once more, “Please, Cazendra. This territory cannot fall now.”
Caz sighed. Beezle would have wanted her to go there. She would have begged her to do so, too. Because a meeting on such short notice had a certain importance. Especially since Caz assumed all leaders have been called into the Neutral Zone.
Gods damned these people.
“Fine, but who will be the new leader after I return? Shouldn’t we take him or her with us and announce it?”
The sage exchanged a glance with his colleagues. Something in her gut twisted and she did absolutely not like that look. Her magic summoned the electricity once more. Just in case.
“Cazendra,” he gulped and tried to build his frame up. A pathetic sight, honestly. “We have seen your capabilities, what you can do. There is no one who could have achieved what you did in such a short span of time. We would like you to be the new leader.”
Beezle was dead. The world kept spinning and Caz was sure she probably just dreamed. This was a joke, a dream– a nightmare. Any second now the kobold would pinch her nose and she could whip her palm against his useless head.
But Caz knew better than that. The scent of death lingered in her nose, daring to take her back to the cave in the swamps. She blocked it out and focused on the facts laid in front of her.
Her leader dead. She was her Second. And she was just asked to be the new leader.
Fine, she understood where it came from. An active territory like this needed a leader role at the front. But her? Any step, any word– it would all be monitored. Everything she did or did not do would reflect on the territory. Anything her people would do would bite her in the ass sooner or later.
Gods. Damned. This.
But Beezle… Beezle would have wanted this. For her, no one could work as a replacement but Caz herself. Because she knew Caz would devote herself to any task, even this one. Beezle loved her people, her territory. Any threat to this might be a new leader. Someone who did not intend to carry on her legacy.
Oh Beezle, you better pay me back when I die one day.
“Fine,” Caz muttered, hitting herself in her mind. “Fine, I will do it.” Her voice had gone so utterly still and calm. The sage’s eyes lit with delight and he scurried her out of the chamber.
“We shall move soon. Dress nicely, Madam.” Madam- they caled Beezle that way. The old demons gave some orders about what to do with the body. But Caz was now the leader and with that her word ranked higher than theirs.
“Halt,” she said, bringing everyone to stop. Okay, okay she could do this. “Bring the body to safety and let it not rot. We will hold the funeral once I return. If anything happens to her, I will personally rip your heads off myself.”
The guards slowly nodded before following their given tasks. Caz sneaked through the hall, a ghost of herself. She could not bring herself to hold her head high. Not with all the weight crashing down on her. Beezle was dead and she inherited her role. The funeral would be soon and with that her coronation. A stupid procedure from the temple, where she had to give vows and shit.
The hallway, even though it was broad and long, was crowded. Crying and panicked staff ran to the chamber, some even bumping into her. Cazendra would have snapped, anything. But her body did not even try to bring up that much energy. At some point she arrived in her own room. Deep green walls with lighter patterns of water lilies. She scrambled a dress out of her garderobe. A dark one fitting to her knees. It covered her shoulders and bent down to a V at her back. It brought her muscles to shine a little, tuned her rather athletic bodice nicely. Dress nicely, the old scumbag had told her. She did. But no one said she couldn’t mourn at the same time.
Caz swung a golden necklace around her neck. Delicate and a flattering accent. She decided to stick small earrings on her ears. They looked like water drops twirled with a little ribbon. Beezle had gifted her these once. Although Cazendra never was a fan of accessories like these, she did wear them on special occasions. Something told her she would wear these a lot more from now on.
Cazendra wasn’t aware when she entered the then calm hallways again or when the sages took her to the boat. All she knew was that the metallic scent nested in her nose. She saw the territory passing, the people. Now they were her people. At some point she mentioned to the sages to not announce Beezle’s death yet. She was sure one of them sent a message to someone in the headquarters. A few rivers lead into the Neutral Zone, a way of transferring their goods. Caz only snapped back to reality once the boat stopped.
They were there. Sky Reach Sanctum. Two twin towers she hoped to never see again. Beezle had taken her a few times. Meetings with the other leaders were… rough. A tension her kind friend often displeased. Caz got out of the boat, unconsciously batting away the stretched out hand.
The elderly sage told her that they would only announce her new role and leave. Fine by her. She wasn’t feeling like explaining everything to them anyways. They would then send her another boat as in they took the one they used to get here. Like always, he talked too much. He blabbered about honour, loyalty and all those kinds of heroic sounding words. She spat on each of them. Beezle would have wanted this and somehow she could not leave this territory to doom. Criad would shake his head at her if she had refused. He would bicker about it for the rest of her life and she did not need that.
The old demons talked to the guards, each pair that kept them from continuing. What was that meeting about anyways? She would see. The meeting room, she remembered, was a fascinating creation. Bashed between the twin towers and hidden from the normal eye. It was enormous, too.
An elevator took them to the secret room. Again, a pair of guards stopped them.
“Only Leaders and Seconds can enter,” the gruff looking one pointed at her three sages. “You are not welcomed.”
Oh, they weren’t welcomed when her power leashed out on them. With gritted teeth, Caz danced around the for once speechless sages. The tower was full of sources, they sang to her, taunted her. But she took another one of her steadying breathes.
“I am the new leader of Serpent’s Kiss,” she made sure to stare each of them in the eyes. Their confusion would have usually marvelled her but her words hid the truth. Beezle’s death. “And in order to announce that to these idiots inside there, I need them. You either let them pass or I fry you right here. I had a terrible day so do not see how far you can come.”
And so they stepped aside. She beckoned the sages inside. The demons split the doors without so much as a knock and ventured inside. Caz held her head high this time as she entered with them. The two younger ones, and also slightly taller ones, hid her figure behind theirs.
“My apologies,” the elderly, small sage began. “You must have started and we dare to intrude. But we come with… news. Hereby I announce the fall of our former leader and the rise of our new one. Consider Cazendra Virrer your equal now.”
The two sages in front of her stepped aside to let her pass. Caz took the place besides the elder, running her eyes from leader to leader. They truly were the last to arrive. But the room still looked… nice. So, the meeting must have just started.
The demoness did not bow, did not wave. All she did was to say, “Let’s keep a good relationship between the clans in my reign.”
“Ow!” he screeched and hopped from her chair. She cut him a glance only to ravish in his grimace. Criad had been her assistant for quite a time now. Well, more of an annoying rat than help but she tried to ignore it. He knew things of this territory that stood in no book.
The demoness sat up straight and stretched. “Be glad I didn’t zip you with my thunder.” More or less, it was electricity drawn from any source possible. But thunder had a doom sound to it whilst electro shock sounded like a child’s game.
“Caz, you can’t just approve such a sum for a trivalic issue like that though,” he complained. He always complained. The siren flew over the report once more. A farmer requested aid due to a few machines of his being old and barely working. She sighed. Trivialic? No. Their territory was prominent for their goods. Any farmer experiencing hardships like these was a pressing matter. Caz laid the report to the approved pile.
That was Number 148 today. Only 200 complaints left.
Caz wondered if she would have enjoyed a day in the waters more than this, but she shook her stellar. It was not worth weighing the possibilities. Ever since Beezle had asked her to become her Second, she did everything for her. After all, being a leader was no fun.
She wondered though what said leader was doing. Attending another meeting? Hearing the sages out? or was she lost to another bookstore? Either way Cazendra had to get this done before noon. In the evening she wanted to train a little. Perhaps she had to force Beezle to some as well. She knew the female had dodged a few lessons.
“Can we go eat now?” the kobold cried. Gods, how could anyone be so annoying? But the nice Second-In-Command she was, Caz flashed her sharp set of teeth at him. “Maybe I will eat you instead.”
He grimaced once more before plumping down into his seat. Extra cushions lifted his tiny frame. Criad had fought her as she invented his own chairs but she had seen his tiny smile as he sat down in one for the first time. With a huff, Caz returned to another complaint. Another farmer.
“Oh, what!” she hissed and flung it to the disapproved stack. She ignored how much larger it was than the few on the other pile. Criad stared at her, anticipating what brought her to rage. Caz took a shuddering calming breath. “Some people– he truly wrote to me to complain about the river being a little on his bought lands!”
Criad fell into hysterical laughter. “What does he think I am going to do? Alter fucking nature?” The green gremlin couldn’t catch his breath for a second, almost rolling from his chair. Sure, he could laugh. But the Serpents had bigger issues. Things that went under in this pile of trash because of some entitled demons.
“I should pass a new law,” Caz said, already reading through another report. Another murder. Probably the fifth this month. She stored it in her desk. “They should all go to the dungeons for shit like this.”
“Maybe you should just warn them,” Criad wiped an imaginary tear from his eyes. “After all, they do seem to be afraid.”
They were. Whilst their leader was blessed with a good heart, her Second was not. Cazendra became her shadow with claws. Always defending her, always keeping her people in check. Some exited stores whenever she entered them, others shut their windows and she frequently received nervous glances. Many of them, Caz knew from reading their smokes, were just afraid. Others hid something and later on landed mysteriously in prison.
Criad had become accustomed to her threats or the little shocks she sent him whenever he overstepped a line. The tiny kobold proved more worth than any of those demons. Even in these headquarters she was rather avoided. Yes, servants did bring her whatever she asked for and asked her three times a day if she needed help, but they often scurried along in the enormous villa. Whenever she trained, guards stood at the side in a safe distance. But even so far away, Caz always caught the awe and fear in their eyes. She marveled at it. Good, let them be afraid. Let them spread horrendous rumors. It brought her the respect she needed as an outsider.
Before she could take another paper, someone knocked at her door. Frequently.
Non-stop.
Caz was going to fry someone after all. She hurried to her door and almost ripped it out of its hinges. The guard did not step back. Fine, he would only get zipped-
“Miss Virrer, you need to hurry. It’s about our grand leader-”
She had heard enough. Without a split of a second passing, she sprinted down the hall. Beezle. What issues could there be? Did her favored character die? Did she water her book and was about to flood the entire headquarters? Caz swiftly ran down to the female’s office. Her body light, her feet only a fade breeze to the floor. A figure, grey and brown, kept her pace. This guard again–
“We tried to open her door after we heard a thud,” he panted. “She didn’t answer.”
Caz gave him a firm nod before forcing herself to be faster. Thud. No answer. Did Beezle collapse? A few seconds later, she arrived at the scene. Many guards crowded the door, tried to knock and get a miracle answer.
She pushed a few to the side. “Move,” Caz hissed and gained the entire space at the door. A wooden, luxurious thing. Like those things Beezle read about in the castles. Decorated with a river flowing down, twirling around the handle.
The siren’s eyes narrowed to slits, allowing her to detect smokes. But only those of the guards clouded her senses. Useless. Caz shook her head and her normal sight reappeared. She gave this damned door a good knock.
“Beezle? Are you in there? Did something happen?”
She counted. One, two, three. No answer.
Four, five, six. Still nothing.
Cazendra rolled her head on her shoulders. She gave a mental apology before running the locked door open. Only to be revealed to a body on the ground and a strong wave of metallic aroma. Her body froze.
The guards stuck their heads in but hesitated. They waited for her. But she couldn't– Beezle was– Get a hold of yourself. Caz rigged a breath. Her mouth iched before she finally managed to press out, “Sages… Go get the sages!”
The white haired siren thumbled inside. She didn’t know when she kneeled down but she did, nor when she took the head of the female into her lap. Her fingers rapidly searched for her pulse but… under this delicate skin moved nothing. Her pupils narrowed once more. Only a fading smoke was visible.
No.
No,no,no,no,no!
These headquarters were safe! Armed from head to foot guards, high security systems! Cazendra looked for the wound. She had overseen the deep slash in the abdomen region. One precise slash, a matter of seconds. Her skull turned like a machine. The window on the east side slightly swung. The world turned in a loop. All she saw was the west window being bashed open. Entrance and Exit.
Caz could hear herself as she bellowed, “The murderer is still here! Search the west wings you useless mutts!” And even though some guards were frozen, others were on the move. Her hand glid through the female’s hair. She took her figure in completely now.
Beezle was dressed formally? She always wore those to the… Neutral Zone. But why– Cazendra’s head shot up as three old demons stood in the leader’s chambers. The smaller one– the head sage—kneeled to her side. She could only watch his fingers testing for the pulse. The next thing she knew was crying. The taller sage started to sob.
Caz waited for that to hit her, too. Anger, frustration, devastation. Anything! But… nothing hit her. She saw her old home again. Her shredded father, her brother’s wide eyes. Until the image of her dead friend rained upon her.
Dead. Beezle was dead. Killed on a bright day in her own office.
Dead.
The sage turned to her. His wrinkly mouth moved.
Dead.
What… was he saying?
Dead. Beezle is dead.
He stopped. Caz noted his resting hand on her shoulder.
Dead in my arms.
Cazendra slowly got up, took steadying breathes. Slowly the noise and chaos from the halls ringed in her ears. The two remaining sages still cried with a few guards. Their eyes were fixed upon the body at her feet. The body that had belonged to her friend once.
And someone took that friend.
The electricity from the building dashed to her, flowing through her veins and bones now. Someone took Beezle from her and he was still here. Her nails dug into her palms, allowing a few sparkles to emerge and leash at the air around her. Caz stepped around the body, careful not to harm her.
Someone took her from me.
A hand stopped her. She whirled around, her fist raised in the air. The eldest sage only shook his head. “Calm down,” he said.
Calm? Calm?! How could– Caz sneered, “There is a murderer on the free run in my headquarters.” With her sharp finger she pointed at Beezle. “The one who took your leader.”
“The guards are handling it,” he assured and gestured at the same body she was pointing at. “You noticed her clothes, right?”
Flashes remained cracking through the air around her, but she nodded. The sage took a breath as well. “I know you are raging,” he began. “But we cannot mourn her too long. Black Roses have called in a meeting.”
It extinguished her sparkles around her and she turned her entire frame to the sage. “What?”
“Yes, she was on her way there I assume. But she was already late, so we cannot let them wait any longer. You will have to attend this instant.”
Caz blinked at the old demon. And blinked and blinked. Was there any law restricting her from ripping a sage apart? Probably, regarding the fact they guarded the sacred temple and shit.
“Our leader,” she said, begging herself to not erupt into yelling, “was just killed and all you think about is a damned meeting? To hell with them!”
He shrunk, only a little bit, but he did. The elder gave her an apologetic look before he said once more, “Please, Cazendra. This territory cannot fall now.”
Caz sighed. Beezle would have wanted her to go there. She would have begged her to do so, too. Because a meeting on such short notice had a certain importance. Especially since Caz assumed all leaders have been called into the Neutral Zone.
Gods damned these people.
“Fine, but who will be the new leader after I return? Shouldn’t we take him or her with us and announce it?”
The sage exchanged a glance with his colleagues. Something in her gut twisted and she did absolutely not like that look. Her magic summoned the electricity once more. Just in case.
“Cazendra,” he gulped and tried to build his frame up. A pathetic sight, honestly. “We have seen your capabilities, what you can do. There is no one who could have achieved what you did in such a short span of time. We would like you to be the new leader.”
Beezle was dead. The world kept spinning and Caz was sure she probably just dreamed. This was a joke, a dream– a nightmare. Any second now the kobold would pinch her nose and she could whip her palm against his useless head.
But Caz knew better than that. The scent of death lingered in her nose, daring to take her back to the cave in the swamps. She blocked it out and focused on the facts laid in front of her.
Her leader dead. She was her Second. And she was just asked to be the new leader.
Fine, she understood where it came from. An active territory like this needed a leader role at the front. But her? Any step, any word– it would all be monitored. Everything she did or did not do would reflect on the territory. Anything her people would do would bite her in the ass sooner or later.
Gods. Damned. This.
But Beezle… Beezle would have wanted this. For her, no one could work as a replacement but Caz herself. Because she knew Caz would devote herself to any task, even this one. Beezle loved her people, her territory. Any threat to this might be a new leader. Someone who did not intend to carry on her legacy.
Oh Beezle, you better pay me back when I die one day.
“Fine,” Caz muttered, hitting herself in her mind. “Fine, I will do it.” Her voice had gone so utterly still and calm. The sage’s eyes lit with delight and he scurried her out of the chamber.
“We shall move soon. Dress nicely, Madam.” Madam- they caled Beezle that way. The old demons gave some orders about what to do with the body. But Caz was now the leader and with that her word ranked higher than theirs.
“Halt,” she said, bringing everyone to stop. Okay, okay she could do this. “Bring the body to safety and let it not rot. We will hold the funeral once I return. If anything happens to her, I will personally rip your heads off myself.”
The guards slowly nodded before following their given tasks. Caz sneaked through the hall, a ghost of herself. She could not bring herself to hold her head high. Not with all the weight crashing down on her. Beezle was dead and she inherited her role. The funeral would be soon and with that her coronation. A stupid procedure from the temple, where she had to give vows and shit.
The hallway, even though it was broad and long, was crowded. Crying and panicked staff ran to the chamber, some even bumping into her. Cazendra would have snapped, anything. But her body did not even try to bring up that much energy. At some point she arrived in her own room. Deep green walls with lighter patterns of water lilies. She scrambled a dress out of her garderobe. A dark one fitting to her knees. It covered her shoulders and bent down to a V at her back. It brought her muscles to shine a little, tuned her rather athletic bodice nicely. Dress nicely, the old scumbag had told her. She did. But no one said she couldn’t mourn at the same time.
Caz swung a golden necklace around her neck. Delicate and a flattering accent. She decided to stick small earrings on her ears. They looked like water drops twirled with a little ribbon. Beezle had gifted her these once. Although Cazendra never was a fan of accessories like these, she did wear them on special occasions. Something told her she would wear these a lot more from now on.
Cazendra wasn’t aware when she entered the then calm hallways again or when the sages took her to the boat. All she knew was that the metallic scent nested in her nose. She saw the territory passing, the people. Now they were her people. At some point she mentioned to the sages to not announce Beezle’s death yet. She was sure one of them sent a message to someone in the headquarters. A few rivers lead into the Neutral Zone, a way of transferring their goods. Caz only snapped back to reality once the boat stopped.
They were there. Sky Reach Sanctum. Two twin towers she hoped to never see again. Beezle had taken her a few times. Meetings with the other leaders were… rough. A tension her kind friend often displeased. Caz got out of the boat, unconsciously batting away the stretched out hand.
The elderly sage told her that they would only announce her new role and leave. Fine by her. She wasn’t feeling like explaining everything to them anyways. They would then send her another boat as in they took the one they used to get here. Like always, he talked too much. He blabbered about honour, loyalty and all those kinds of heroic sounding words. She spat on each of them. Beezle would have wanted this and somehow she could not leave this territory to doom. Criad would shake his head at her if she had refused. He would bicker about it for the rest of her life and she did not need that.
The old demons talked to the guards, each pair that kept them from continuing. What was that meeting about anyways? She would see. The meeting room, she remembered, was a fascinating creation. Bashed between the twin towers and hidden from the normal eye. It was enormous, too.
An elevator took them to the secret room. Again, a pair of guards stopped them.
“Only Leaders and Seconds can enter,” the gruff looking one pointed at her three sages. “You are not welcomed.”
Oh, they weren’t welcomed when her power leashed out on them. With gritted teeth, Caz danced around the for once speechless sages. The tower was full of sources, they sang to her, taunted her. But she took another one of her steadying breathes.
“I am the new leader of Serpent’s Kiss,” she made sure to stare each of them in the eyes. Their confusion would have usually marvelled her but her words hid the truth. Beezle’s death. “And in order to announce that to these idiots inside there, I need them. You either let them pass or I fry you right here. I had a terrible day so do not see how far you can come.”
And so they stepped aside. She beckoned the sages inside. The demons split the doors without so much as a knock and ventured inside. Caz held her head high this time as she entered with them. The two younger ones, and also slightly taller ones, hid her figure behind theirs.
“My apologies,” the elderly, small sage began. “You must have started and we dare to intrude. But we come with… news. Hereby I announce the fall of our former leader and the rise of our new one. Consider Cazendra Virrer your equal now.”
The two sages in front of her stepped aside to let her pass. Caz took the place besides the elder, running her eyes from leader to leader. They truly were the last to arrive. But the room still looked… nice. So, the meeting must have just started.
The demoness did not bow, did not wave. All she did was to say, “Let’s keep a good relationship between the clans in my reign.”
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blue tea
may you look up and meet tenderness
Darkbloom
Storm King of Superheroes
Asmoday listened intently to Vincent and the other opinions of the leaders. Before he could make a statement, the Serpent's Kiss second in command entered the room. One of the people with her stepped forward.
Wait, a leader was killed? By who? By what? When? And why? He got most of the five Ws, being relatively sure where she was found. But that's not the main problem. The main problem is that the troops Asmoday had in Serpent's Kiss territory were ineffective against the killer. He stands up. "I am deeply sorry for this turn of events. As the leader of the military force, I also apologize for the lack of foresight my soldiers had. I will visit them all personally."
Asmoday would miss teasing Beezle about her books habit. It made her arrive late to pretty much every event they'd attended. "What book caused you to be late this time?" He would say often when she arrived much later. As for the new leader... He didn't know much. Most of his dealings were with other leaders, Carmine and his own clan members.
He wasn't close with any of the leaders, but he could appreciate Yuhwa's efforts to offer help. "That goes for me too. I'll lend any assistance I can offer."
Wait, a leader was killed? By who? By what? When? And why? He got most of the five Ws, being relatively sure where she was found. But that's not the main problem. The main problem is that the troops Asmoday had in Serpent's Kiss territory were ineffective against the killer. He stands up. "I am deeply sorry for this turn of events. As the leader of the military force, I also apologize for the lack of foresight my soldiers had. I will visit them all personally."
Asmoday would miss teasing Beezle about her books habit. It made her arrive late to pretty much every event they'd attended. "What book caused you to be late this time?" He would say often when she arrived much later. As for the new leader... He didn't know much. Most of his dealings were with other leaders, Carmine and his own clan members.
He wasn't close with any of the leaders, but he could appreciate Yuhwa's efforts to offer help. "That goes for me too. I'll lend any assistance I can offer."
Nothingness
Two Thousand Club
Black Rose Leader
Vincent Zhao
Mood: Angered
Haven, Sky Reach Sanctum
The first to speak was the leader of the Ravinca, Yuhwa. The cough followed by the questions regarding the curious thought of how ferals had been able to get out of the contaminated zone followed by the possibility of someone releasing them into the city and finally even the question about the awareness of ferals were all important questions. However, all of which Vincent had no answers to off the top of his head. Rather than attempt to answer them and having no grounds to stand upon his own possible theories, he kept silent and kept his gaze focused onto the hologram of the city with crossed arms.
Mere seconds passed and soon the door to the room creaked open once more, expecting none other than the final leader, Beezle to be the one that would step through the doorway, Vincent showed little interest as he did with his two fellow leaders when they had arrived. Unexpectedly however, rather than the leader of Serpent's Kiss entering, it was her Second-In-Command, and not only that but the elders of her clan as well. With a raised brow at the sight of this, Vincent uncrossed his arms just to wait for the explanation as to where the leader of the clan was and why only the Second-In-Command was present.
As the information was stated regarding the fall of the previous leader and the now rise to position, Cazendra, silence practically fell upon the room for what seemed like an eternity to Vincent. All sound in the room to Vincent had practically been either silenced or muffled, even when both fellow leaders spoke, their voices were nothing more than mumbles in the male's ears as he slowly leaned forward in his seat while gripping the edge of the table. "H-Huh..?" Being the only response that Vincent could utter from his lips, his grip soon tightened more and more onto the table's surface till cracks had begun to form around the material of the table against his grip. The table rapidly regenerating any damage done to it just as quickly as he tightened his grip further.
Dealing with a bunch of civilian murders due to the possible fact that ferals how somehow escaped from their sealed portion of the city was one thing, but now the death of a leader and to have practically no knowledge as to how the leader died. Unacceptable. "Is this some sort of joke?.." Voicing his opinion as soon as Cazendra greeted her now fellow leaders, Vincent soon stood up from his seat simply to raise his right arm, palm open towards the elder that announced the fall of the previous leader and now rise of the new leader. In mere seconds, the temperature within the room rapidly began to descend till each occupant within the room had begun to be able to see their own breathes. The edges of the table and seats began to crisp over in a light glaze of ice while Vincent's own passive rage began to increase overtime. "New leader? Equal? How dare you...How dare you nonchalantly state the death of a leader and propose this woman as the new ruler of Serpent's Kiss, and to call her equal? She has yet to even prove herself!" By the end of his sentence, Vincent had practically slammed his palms upon the surface of the table while leaning forward as a wave of crystalized ice traveled across the table's surface, along the ground and eventually pinning the elder towards the closed door that the four had entered from.
"A-..Apoloigies sir! W-we...I-I meant no disrespect! We had only just found out moments ago about her death! W-we were into far too much shock, we had to appoint a new l-leader, else the public would riot without someone to lead them!" With the terrified elder pinned against the wall while the ice creeped up his small stature, eventually the climb of freezing the elderly man eventually came to a halt at his throat as Vincent exhaled a deep sigh before lowering his arm. He had no plans to kill the man, rather it was to make a point that to speak so calmly about the death of a leader who had ruled for an extended period of time only to present a new one as though it were like children playing tag annoyed him.
Just as quickly as the temperature had dropped and the ice had formed, after lowering his arm and calming his passive anger, the room slowly return to its previous temperature once more while the ice shattered before melting all across the floor as well as the elder's coat.
"If you all wish to go and pay your respects to Beezle's death. Then feel free to. I am going to be investigating the contaminated zone, and seeing as to what has happened." With that said, Vincent turned his back to his fellow leaders before heading towards one of the large windows on the opposing side of the room. Sliding it open, he held out his palm just to feel as the once pouring rain had now been a mere light drizzle before finally making a jump out of the several hundred story building. While Vincent did wish to pay his own respects to the deceased leader, he knew that if someone did not address the murders, then more people would die and the whole safety of Haven would soon be in jeopardy.
Falling with immense amounts of speed, as he neared the pavement below, he exhaled deeply just to have the drizzling rain followed by the water presently on the ground begin to freeze over to form over a large cube-like structure that would break his fall. Coming down with the large amount of force, Vincent shattered the structure only to have the large chunks of ice melt upon impact to avoid any damage they would've caused if they were to hit anything or anyone nearby.
Darkbloom
blue tea
JJae
Code by Serobliss
Mr. Skull
Vulcán, the crackman
It had been a slow morning within the confines of the claustrophobically small office room the sleep-deprived demon occupied. It was right before the sun had risen this narration begins. Because Kralos didn't sleep. He was determined to be the best overseer of Black Rose's internal, external, financial, whatever matters that could arise at any given moment. His past meant nothing as he held such power over the clan, and he was determined to use it to it's fullest for it's best interests.
And hadn't he been interrupted by a rogue, unexpected call, he would have spent another 24 hours reading, signing and working on documents most people wouldn't be able to stand during such a prolonged time span. Such an authoritarian second-in-command could do nothing but sigh at the sudden noise, his routine being broken by such a slight event did frustrate him indeed after three days with only four hours of sleep to get him going.
Still, he saw no fault with his lack of a sleep schedule at all. And he was determined to power through it with his immense supply of coffee. He took a sip from his cup before answering the call.
"Good morning, this is Black Rose second-in-command Kralos Featherworm speaking." His voice felt nervous, hasted, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit something like that. It was as if he didn't realize his tone at the moment.
However, his own nervousness couldn't top the fear the caller seemed to convey in his words, way before he could add a "how can I help you" to his monotone response to anyone calling him while he was deep into his duties. "Sir! I-it happened again... One of our youngest kids-"
He recognized the voice as one of the only Black Moon members to ever contact him, specially when anything ever so slightly bad happened. This however was way more serious and he knew it. His eyes suddenly focused on the wall in front of him, unmoving. Like he was looking straight into the demon's eyes, already knowing what had happened. It was far from the first time one of Black Moon's guides brutally met their fate during working hours. "Are the Ravinca police nearby? Where did the body get found?" He asked, partly hoping it wasn't inside Black Rose's territory. The fiend on the other side was almost hyperventilating as he answered his question. "I-I did find her in an alleway, sir! She was- she was completely unrecognizable, only with her ID to identify her, her face-"
"Spare me the details, Luxine. I want you to give your testimony to the best of your ability to the police. Please gather your tour guides and interrogate them on any kind of suspicious activity. Make sure they are always armed while on the job. I-I..."
Suddenly a crack on his voice betrayed him, the whole situation overwhelming him. He could only play the calm leader type so much after the 5th call in a week, and his lack of rest was starting to be a way serious problem by that unfortunate third sleepless day. "I need you to call off any cultural activities scheduled for today, it's too dangerous to be outside while this... madness is still happening."
Of course, a decision came to his mind at the heat of the moment, still to be discussed with Vincent. But the nature of the attacks gave the culprits away for Kralos, as they had been the ones to put an end to his uncle's life in an equally disturbing, gruesome manner. Ferals were running amok and he didn't know how were they even able to breach the containment zone, but surely they had a way out for such a massive amount of widespread murder cases to be happening at the same time. And he was absolutely aware Vincent had to also know what was happening, but until further orders from the leader himself were issued, he had to make sure to take matters into his own hand faster than a slow and possibly inneficient bureaucratic apparatus would do.
And to make matters worse, it started raining. Damn.
"As you order, sir!" Those were the demon's last words before hanging up the call. Kralos however felt completely deflated after the conversation. And as soon as he checked a local new's site on his laptop, he was given the image he so wanted to avoid seeing of the mangled corpse of a tour guide in a bloodied alleway. Hours would still have to pass for his orders to reach the Special Forces, but he didn't even call his assistant to issue his orders for him. Instead he phoned the first officer he could find on his number list to make sure armed operatives were marching through the streets of Haven in search of ferals, as well as having squads of them patrolling the area surrounding the containment zone.
--------------
Hours after the incident, he woke up on his desk. Looking at the hour on his computer, he realized he had fallen asleep for no less than five hours, with an email by his leader sitting in his inbox.
...Right. He had issued orders by himself to the Special Forces. And surely the might had already taken the streets, dispeling the general population and shooting at anything resembling a feral demon. Right, Vincent could easily be mad after that, specially if no ferals were found outside the containment zone and he did nothing but cause a general sense of panic on Haven's population. Right.
The email didn't mention any of that once opened though. It was instead calling him to an urgent meeting at Sky Reach Sanctum, and it had been delivered hours ago.
He hurried up, leaving the headquarters in a taxi to the place of the meeting. He felt absolutely idiotic for such an oversight. He couldn't just fall asleep at his job like that! And the Special Forces hadn't even been deployed yet, perhaps the head ups decided to not take such extreme measures just yet against his wishes, or perhaps some issues had arisen to delay the process.
[You should try to chill out for a bit, don't'cha think?] A voice spawning from Vermilion echoed inside his mind. [Mind your own damn business.] Kralos echoed back as he walked through the hallways. Before that he had seen Asmodey's massive airship stationed, so he knew for a fact the meeting was already ongoing and he was late.
However, he could sense something was off as soon as he saw the sages huddling at the meeting room's entrance. He VERY POLITELY made his way through them, finally finding himself in an extremely cold room with at least two clan leaders, missing both Beezle and Vincent. Although at least he wasn't the only second-in-command present.
A few seconds went by as he looked around the room. It seemed things had gotten very hectic during his absence. Shy as he always was, he struggled a bit to find the will to ask what the hell just happened. But finally he opened his mouth.
"May I know what happened during the meeting so I can take the best next course of action?" He spoke oddly, a little bit robotic. But at least his voice wasn't as full of anxiety as before. He looked at the opened window for a second before his gaze went back to those currently present.
JJae
Rox
Cazendra Virrer listened. The first to react was Ravinca's leader. She recalled a fewer things from the male. Another gentle, rather cheerful soul. Just like Beezle had been. She could stare into the devastation in his eyes. At least her death didn't go through the round without any reactions. It... settled something in her. Caz never much concerned herself with the relations Beezle kept. The female would brag or laugh about events whilst she did paperwork. Oh, how often Beezle came to her office just to shit-chat.
“No one else was hurt? How—”
He was at a loss of words, Caz noted. Sometimes she didn't need her sirenical sight to figure out the moods of a person. Not feeling like talking, she gave him a simple shake of her head. It only hit Beezle, she thought and made sure to make a mental note regarding the little detail. Caz tried to block her thoughts out for the time being. Just... not now.
“How did she die?”
The room spun, the only thing left was the flash of the imagine of the flesh wound. The blood. The stinging scent in her nose. Caz blinked it away in the matter of a second. Yuhwa Aeng nodged his skull to a pin board. For a moment she took the pictures on it in. The actual theme of this meeting. Ferals. In the back of her head knocked the memories of the murder cases in her desk. She would have to tend to it later. For now, she wanted Beezle to be buried, the ritual done and the murder in her hands. The demoness gulped slightly. "All the details to regarding the murder will be published in the news." Her voice kept surprisingly steady. No tune out of place.
Aeng remained unsettled. What could she say to calm him anyway? Her friend and leader was gone, the murder on the loose (although that information should not fall in this conversation) and she inherited the entire responsibility in a matter of minutes. There were no aspects to be perceived as positive or calming. Caz decided to not bother too much, anyways. She had always kept away from the leaders, had always stood beside Beezle and shot one or two suggestions when meetings occurred. But she had cared for the clan. After some time, with more or less passion. Now they were officially her people. And dropping one brainless comment could affect the way the public viewed her.
Caz straightened, snapped out of her mind as Bloody Moon's leader Asmoday raised his words. She tried to fish out a few personal informations. Hadn't Beezle often laughed over his teasing? Were they some distant kind of friends? In moments like these, she wished for Beezle to be there. Her charming, lightful smile would have brightened the already tense room.
He rose to his feet, dragged her out of her nonsense of wondering and wishing. Irrational, useless thoughts. "I am deeply sorry for this turn of events. As the leader of the military force, I also apologize for the lack of foresight my soldiers had. I will visit them all personally." Yes, his guards. But the way it happened... The murderer came through all of the security from both sides. Serpents and Bloody Moons. It brought her a few conspicuous ideas. But she knew the majority of the security was not at fault. Whoever it did had either been a mole in the headquarters or he received help from someone in the innercircles.
"Do not busy them," Caz tried to hold her head high and push the flashes of images back. They cried, they all wept for the fallen leader. "None of them is at fault, I assure you. They do their job and this is just... an issue, a mistake. You are, however, always invited to visit our territory. I will not hinder you if this is what you must do."
The sage shifted beside her. Cazendra dropped her talk to focus on what brought the elder to unrest. Temperatures in the room dropped. She called the electricity to her, allowing it to rotate in her veins and bones. Her gaze fell upon the male being responsible for that. The one who called them here- Vincent Zhao, leader of the Black Rose clan. She knew bare to nothing from him. Only that he barely talked and if, only some facts.
"New leader? Equal? How dare you...How dare you nonchalantly state the death of a leader and propose this woman as the new ruler of Serpent's Kiss, and to call her equal? She has yet to even prove herself!"
Fair enough, yes. But what did he know! She had managed the territory for so long now. Beezle had trusted her. He had no right to discard her wishes like that, to discard her trust in Caz. Her flashes sparkled at her hands as they clenched onto her arms. Cazendra, despite her anger now, enjoyed the way he made the old sage tremble and stutter. But now these idiots were under her care, sadly. But she didn't feel like stepping in. After all, the male was probably only overwhelmed. Another leader died, one who had been amongst them for ages now. Yes, she could understand him to certain points.
"If you all wish to go and pay your respects to Beezle's death. Then feel free to. I am going to be investigating the contaminated zone, and seeing as to what has happened."
And with the wind he went. She pitied the window but shrugged it off. Now she came to this meeting for what? Nothing? Beezle died. Died. Her friend gone and she had to attend this damned meeting for nothing! Oh, she would rip him to pieces the next time. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling of... utter calmness. Beezle had been accepted and was... missed. Those demons missed her. Something in Cazendra sighed in relief.
The sages, however, scurried away. Only whispering her that a new boat was on the way. Cazendra rolled her shoulders. This day could not be real. It just couldn't. She still made a mental note on the zone investigation though. Although she highly hoped for the murder cases in her clan to be not connected to these wild dogs. It would be a hell of an impact on their reputation.
Just then, the door behind her opened once more. Caz guessed the sage altered his mind, but her eyes fell upon a once fellow Second. Her brow raised at the Second from Black Rose. Well, his just leader just jumped down the window.
"May I know what happened during the meeting so I can take the best next course of action?"
Oh, gods.
Cazendra tried her best to not unleash her frust upon the poor, unknowing demon. "Well...," Sweat ran down her brow. Get yourself together, get yourself together, get yourself together, getyourselftogether, getyourselftogether. She never voiced the fact, she realized. Caz knew Beezle was dead. It was a simple fact. Why couldn't she just say it!
The demoness swallowed the stone in her throat. Beezle would have kept calm, or at least shed a tear and talked with wobbly lips. But Cazendra was her shadow with claws and would keep her legacy alive. Though through different ways, but to maintain a healthy relation with the other clans had a top priority. It was time to put a wall between her feelings and her duties.
She gave it another try. "My previous leader, Beezlebub, has ...passed due to a murderer. I suppose," she nodded to the board with the images of ferals, "The ferals were the main theme of this meeting. Your leader has just left through the window. He seemed enraged that I became the new leader of Serpent's Kiss."
“No one else was hurt? How—”
He was at a loss of words, Caz noted. Sometimes she didn't need her sirenical sight to figure out the moods of a person. Not feeling like talking, she gave him a simple shake of her head. It only hit Beezle, she thought and made sure to make a mental note regarding the little detail. Caz tried to block her thoughts out for the time being. Just... not now.
“How did she die?”
The room spun, the only thing left was the flash of the imagine of the flesh wound. The blood. The stinging scent in her nose. Caz blinked it away in the matter of a second. Yuhwa Aeng nodged his skull to a pin board. For a moment she took the pictures on it in. The actual theme of this meeting. Ferals. In the back of her head knocked the memories of the murder cases in her desk. She would have to tend to it later. For now, she wanted Beezle to be buried, the ritual done and the murder in her hands. The demoness gulped slightly. "All the details to regarding the murder will be published in the news." Her voice kept surprisingly steady. No tune out of place.
Aeng remained unsettled. What could she say to calm him anyway? Her friend and leader was gone, the murder on the loose (although that information should not fall in this conversation) and she inherited the entire responsibility in a matter of minutes. There were no aspects to be perceived as positive or calming. Caz decided to not bother too much, anyways. She had always kept away from the leaders, had always stood beside Beezle and shot one or two suggestions when meetings occurred. But she had cared for the clan. After some time, with more or less passion. Now they were officially her people. And dropping one brainless comment could affect the way the public viewed her.
Caz straightened, snapped out of her mind as Bloody Moon's leader Asmoday raised his words. She tried to fish out a few personal informations. Hadn't Beezle often laughed over his teasing? Were they some distant kind of friends? In moments like these, she wished for Beezle to be there. Her charming, lightful smile would have brightened the already tense room.
He rose to his feet, dragged her out of her nonsense of wondering and wishing. Irrational, useless thoughts. "I am deeply sorry for this turn of events. As the leader of the military force, I also apologize for the lack of foresight my soldiers had. I will visit them all personally." Yes, his guards. But the way it happened... The murderer came through all of the security from both sides. Serpents and Bloody Moons. It brought her a few conspicuous ideas. But she knew the majority of the security was not at fault. Whoever it did had either been a mole in the headquarters or he received help from someone in the innercircles.
"Do not busy them," Caz tried to hold her head high and push the flashes of images back. They cried, they all wept for the fallen leader. "None of them is at fault, I assure you. They do their job and this is just... an issue, a mistake. You are, however, always invited to visit our territory. I will not hinder you if this is what you must do."
The sage shifted beside her. Cazendra dropped her talk to focus on what brought the elder to unrest. Temperatures in the room dropped. She called the electricity to her, allowing it to rotate in her veins and bones. Her gaze fell upon the male being responsible for that. The one who called them here- Vincent Zhao, leader of the Black Rose clan. She knew bare to nothing from him. Only that he barely talked and if, only some facts.
"New leader? Equal? How dare you...How dare you nonchalantly state the death of a leader and propose this woman as the new ruler of Serpent's Kiss, and to call her equal? She has yet to even prove herself!"
Fair enough, yes. But what did he know! She had managed the territory for so long now. Beezle had trusted her. He had no right to discard her wishes like that, to discard her trust in Caz. Her flashes sparkled at her hands as they clenched onto her arms. Cazendra, despite her anger now, enjoyed the way he made the old sage tremble and stutter. But now these idiots were under her care, sadly. But she didn't feel like stepping in. After all, the male was probably only overwhelmed. Another leader died, one who had been amongst them for ages now. Yes, she could understand him to certain points.
"If you all wish to go and pay your respects to Beezle's death. Then feel free to. I am going to be investigating the contaminated zone, and seeing as to what has happened."
And with the wind he went. She pitied the window but shrugged it off. Now she came to this meeting for what? Nothing? Beezle died. Died. Her friend gone and she had to attend this damned meeting for nothing! Oh, she would rip him to pieces the next time. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling of... utter calmness. Beezle had been accepted and was... missed. Those demons missed her. Something in Cazendra sighed in relief.
The sages, however, scurried away. Only whispering her that a new boat was on the way. Cazendra rolled her shoulders. This day could not be real. It just couldn't. She still made a mental note on the zone investigation though. Although she highly hoped for the murder cases in her clan to be not connected to these wild dogs. It would be a hell of an impact on their reputation.
Just then, the door behind her opened once more. Caz guessed the sage altered his mind, but her eyes fell upon a once fellow Second. Her brow raised at the Second from Black Rose. Well, his just leader just jumped down the window.
"May I know what happened during the meeting so I can take the best next course of action?"
Oh, gods.
Cazendra tried her best to not unleash her frust upon the poor, unknowing demon. "Well...," Sweat ran down her brow. Get yourself together, get yourself together, get yourself together, getyourselftogether, getyourselftogether. She never voiced the fact, she realized. Caz knew Beezle was dead. It was a simple fact. Why couldn't she just say it!
The demoness swallowed the stone in her throat. Beezle would have kept calm, or at least shed a tear and talked with wobbly lips. But Cazendra was her shadow with claws and would keep her legacy alive. Though through different ways, but to maintain a healthy relation with the other clans had a top priority. It was time to put a wall between her feelings and her duties.
She gave it another try. "My previous leader, Beezlebub, has ...passed due to a murderer. I suppose," she nodded to the board with the images of ferals, "The ferals were the main theme of this meeting. Your leader has just left through the window. He seemed enraged that I became the new leader of Serpent's Kiss."
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VynnyBoy
Junior Member
Arkos turned to the door. A visitor? Who could it- wait. He had an idea.
Aristides Palomino Ridder
A few days ago
‘We must burnish the old ways.’ The man scratched his head and then added, ‘Or we havenʼt a chance in the new world.’
Aristides shrugged. ‘I understand.’
‘Do you—do you have any family here?’
‘No, sir.’
‘That is good. I donʼt think itʼll go well.’
‘It?’
‘The next few days at least. Canʼt you smell the air?’
Aristides sniffed: only the thick smog, ashy and dry. ‘Like yesteryear.’
‘Only worsening, intensifying.’
They were sipping tea—Aristides and his good friend, Hemos, each sobered by the cold, sad tea—and discussing the impoverishment of culture in the country, and the impoverishment of its people. In the metropolis, especially, where museums were prevalent and art was universally loathed. (‘Why would anyone care for it? Neither do they have the time, nor do they have the base inclination!’ exclaimed Hemos.) What people like them usually talk about. They brushed around the true reason for his visit, the marrow of their relationship, which was the prohibited zone: the center of the city, that ball of nothing. Hemos had come in, stiff-collared and sweating, telling him about the ‘new world’, as he put it, and had given him two or three affectionate slaps on his back. When the excitement had worn off, the salutations exchanged, his mood took a turn for the worse. The tea was a few hours old, meant for breakfast, but it didnʼt mean much to the old man. Hemos was almost thirty years his senior, an expert in anthropology, history and extra-racial relations, who had been appointed Aristidesʼ professor during his early years. He had moved to Haven after retirement, although he had obtained a tenure in a local college—Aristides forgot its name—somewhere.
‘It is something I must tread carefully on,’ began Aristides, taking another sip and frowning, ‘and I could be doing anything else, really. They call it a city of opportunity. I do not disagree, even with all the museums—’
Hemos interjected: ‘You can take over my history classes, Aristides. I have to go abroad in a few weeks, and better you than a random bloke.’
‘To my credit or to the blokeʼs discredit?’
‘The latter. Youʼd be lucky to find a man with even half-decent qualities here. The rest are rabble—prohibitors and propagandists.’
He stood up. ‘But this is why I left the university—’ and gesturing slowly at the vista that spread out beyond the veranda—‘to get to the root of the matter.’
‘You donʼt suppose this whole affair will give you a salary fitting to your station?’
‘No, I donʼt think so.’ Aristides gave a curt, steady nod. ‘But thank you for the offer.’
Hemos stood up too. ‘Look, this might not be as pretty as you imagine it to be.’
‘I know.’
‘Knowing isnʼt enough.’ He put on his hat and sighed. ‘Thatʼs our curse. We know a lot but we do little, so little.’
Before the old man could shoot off, Aristides asked, ‘And the letter?’
‘Here you go. Itʼs only an introduction, mind you, but if you manage to impress the fool—which isnʼt very difficult—youʼll get an easy in.’
‘I appreciate it, Hemos.’
‘Try not to get yourself killed.’
‘I wonʼt.’
However, Hemos didnʼt budge from his position, opting instead to stare out into the horizon. After a few minutes of awkward silence, he said, ‘Listen, you do need protection here. Especially if youʼre going to go and sniff around this city.’
Aristides could only manage a yawn in response. ‘So you say,’ he slowly drawled.
‘I know someone. He might help you around. Do you have money?’
‘Lord, no.’
‘Well, to hell with it. Iʼll pay him myself, you neednʼt worry.’
‘Send this,’ and with special emphasis, ‘contact of yours around whenever he feels comfortable. You know my address.’
‘I do. It was good to see you, Aristides. I think your students would be proud of you.’
Aristides raises an eyebrow. ‘I sure hope so.’
×
Currently
Chastely, Aristides entered the headquarters of the Ash Wolves. The security committee had assigned him as a civilian liaison to the department. What the job precisely entailed, he had no idea, but it would give him the opportunity to take a closer seat and view the spectacle first-hand. He had the good grace of avoiding the dirty looks he kept getting from the rest of the officers, although the papers had cleared him well enough. No love was lost between him and the military; as was tradition, the politicos and the army generally kept themselves an armʼs length away from each other until they simply couldnʼt, until the inevitable entanglement came mutually upon their laps. Thus: whether he would be received well, or received at all, especially in the present, was a question that hung faintly in his mind. Yet someone had to do it, no? A daunting prospect and one Aristides had chosen to fully embrace.
He hoped they had been informed of his arrival beforehand. He disliked explaining himself; rather, he disliked the very idea of talking about himself, or about things that may have any regards to himself. It was a habit he had picked after his post at the university had come to a close, when he had briefly taken a job as a translator, then as an inspector. The interrogative mood, at some point, became antithetical to him. He was thankful, however, for his companion—Alastair, so he had called himself—, who, for all his ominous air, provided a counterweight to the tension in the A.W. headquarters.
‘The worldʼs had enough questions,’ he muttered to himself, before turning back towards his other. With a smile, he asked, ‘Well, what do you think, Alastair?’ He did appreciate his attendant—bodyguard, really—and his relatively keen mind, even in the short time they have been together, and was willing to hear his opinion on the state of things.
×
A little while after that
After winding around the office, humbled eventually by directions delivered with restrained contempt, he arrived at Arkos Charcoalʼs office. The door proved to be a steadfast foe. Taking a deep breath (the discomfort was primordial, for various reasons), he knocked on the door.
He opened the door- and raised an eyebrow. This... had not been his idea of a visitor. It seemed like a scholarly type, but the appearance of humanity was not one he trusted. This was a stranger, how could he trust that? No, he'd learned better than to trust strangers.
He gave a brief glance over his shoulder to Uta Katzen, giving her a silent signal to be ready. Then he turned back to his guest.
"And who might you be?" He gestured fo them to come in, wanting to be at least a hospitable host. They might drop their guard in that case.
Qazi
mocca
Darkbloom
Storm King of Superheroes
"Yes, the ferals. We believe them to be... Not smart. But what if certain ferals have gained the ability think for themselves? If so, these could be orchestrated attacks. Could be planning something unlike anyone has seen from the ferals since the beginning of their history." He remembers history class in demon high school. Not much was mentioned about ferals because no one has caught one alive and experimented on it before. It might be something worth trying.
He thought about going to pay his respects to the fallen leader, but this idea of intelligent ferals intrigued him a lot more. "Ms. Virrer, I will be around to pay my respects for Beezle at a later time, as well as a matter I wish to speak with you about. I'm going to catch up with Vincent to investigate the ferals. Good day everyone." He tipped his imaginary hat and walked back to his airship. "Carmine! I require your assistance. We are going to follow Vincent to investigate the matter of the ferals. It will be a grand adventure!"
gmimperfecti
He thought about going to pay his respects to the fallen leader, but this idea of intelligent ferals intrigued him a lot more. "Ms. Virrer, I will be around to pay my respects for Beezle at a later time, as well as a matter I wish to speak with you about. I'm going to catch up with Vincent to investigate the ferals. Good day everyone." He tipped his imaginary hat and walked back to his airship. "Carmine! I require your assistance. We are going to follow Vincent to investigate the matter of the ferals. It will be a grand adventure!"
gmimperfecti
606
Lazyartist
Kuroda
n a o m i
coded by reveriee.
blue tea
may you look up and meet tenderness
YOU'RE A TRAGEDY
AREN'T YOU?
